Distance
by februaryk
Summary: "Trying not to lose my head, but I've never been this scared before." Daryl/OC. Rated M for language, gore and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

**This will be my first Walking Dead fanfiction. It will be gory and people will die-it just happens that way! I'm a big horror movie and zombie fan and really enjoy them when they're realistic, hopefully you all enjoy!  
**_**This takes place while Andrea is kidnapped by The Governor since we didn't see any of the group besides Rick on the watch tower. Any episodes that happen afterwards won't be addressed unless they are important to the story. (Ex. Someone important dies, they leave the prison, etc.)**_

* * *

Rain descended down from the sky in big, fat drops, splashing on the ground with what sounded like a thunderous 'plop'. It was amazing how much louder things sounded when it was quiet.  
Emma struggled to lift her legs through the thick muck. A pair of worn out hiking boots coated in a nice heaping sludge of red Georgia mud caused her to slow down dangerously, and with the cold rain and heavy pack on her back, it felt like she was carrying around a 6 year old child.  
Not being the greatest in shape either, she was amazed she had even made it this far. Of course, she had had her older brother to thank for that. The young man lived his life outdoors; he was as backwoods as it came and it had always been a part of their lives, living out in the middle of nowhere made you learn how to live without a Wal-Mart in your backyard. The threat of something dangerous trying to kill you out on a hunt was always there, but never as persistent as it was now...or as dead as it was now.

In a matter of days it'd gone from killing rabbits and deer to killing those_ things. _The biters, walkers, deaders, whatever you wanted to call them they came out of nowhere eating whatever they could get ahold of. Emma and her brother Blake had been out on their own for months now, making their way from the northern part of Georgia down towards Atlanta, but that's where she lost Blake. Entering the city proved a lot harder for the two of them then they had expected and Blake fell victim to the herd of walkers that consumed the city.  
It was strange how quickly you had to get on with surviving when your brother and protector was gone and now you were alone and vulnerable. There were times when she would meet up with smaller groups of survivors who ended up dying or being too crazy for their own good and once again, Emma was on her own.

The knife felt permanently attached to her hand and she squeezed onto it tightly, bracing her other hand against a tree to pull herself up out of the sticky mud. The faint groan of walkers around her kept her on her toes, the sound fading in and out of the forest, growing louder and then quieter and then disappearing all together before coming back as if it was right behind her.

Then there was nothing.

Through the trees she finally saw a large, ominous building. Watch towers surrounded it and around the towers it was encased in a large fence with barbed wire curling around the top. In all her years of visiting her father in prison, she knew exactly what this place had to be.  
But creeping out from the thicket of trees and into more of a clearing she noticed that walkers wandered back and forth between the prison gates, yet the furthest gate that led into the prison seemed walker free. It could never help to be too positive.  
The back of her hand wiped away the rain that coated her brow, dripping down into her eyes. Was it worth the risk to try to see what was inside the prison? Maybe it was some sort of well manned survivor hideout or could possibly just be hiding a bunch of walkers just waiting for a snack.  
As Emma took another step out into the clearing, still keeping her wits about the walkers that meandered around her, they was a loud bang next to her ear causing Emma to jump and slip, falling backwards onto the mud.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath, slipping and sliding as she scrambled to get up as quickly as she could.

"Ain't dead!" were the first words out of her mouth to whoever decided to shoot at her.

In a moment, a loud moan of a walker was next to her, trying to grab at her arm, lipless mouth snapping at her. Emma grabbed ahold of the torn up piece of walker's clothing with her free hand while with the other, raised her hand high, stabbing multiple times into the decaying skull of the walker who collapsed with a thud onto the ground.

Her adrenaline running high, Emma tried to catch her breath as she swiveled her head around, looking for the possible attacker. As her eyes grazed past the watch tower, she could have sworn she saw the movement of somebody up there.

The sound of gravel being shook up by tires was the next sound that caught her attention. Someone was driving down through the prison gates. There were people. Emma's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she forgot where she was. It was a prime moment for a walker to attack her from behind. Its jaws snapped wildly at her neck as Emma struggled to get the thing in front of her. Her knife wielding hand plunged into the walker's neck, blood spurting out wildly onto Emma. The walker almost hissed as she somehow managed to twist herself around, the walkers deformed face inches away from hers when an arrow came whizzing by so fast, she could feel it just barely brush past her ear.

The walker dropped to the ground and Emma stood frozen in her spot, not wanting to turn around for fear that the same thing might happen to her.

"'Git bit?!" the southern voice harshly demanded from her.

"No."

"Put yer' knife down an' turn 'round."

Emma unclenched her fist letting the knife fall with a soft plop next to the hand of the walker. With her hands slightly raised she turned around slowly, the mud squishing underneath the old boots as she did so.

She hadn't expected to see who she saw.

"Dixon?"

"Well...no shit." Daryl replied, a smug smirk crossing his lips briefly as he lowered his crossbow ever so slightly, head tilted slightly at the young woman in front of him.

There wasn't much time for 'hellos' or 'what the hell are you doing heres?'. Daryl took a few large steps forwards, swinging the crossbow around his back as he reached out to Emma who was now standing there, soaking wet and stunned that she had managed to find Daryl Dixon.  
Daryl roughly grabbed ahold of the sleeve on her shirt, yanking her back to the car.

"Ain't got time to stand 'round!" he hissed, reaching over with his other hand to open up the back door and shoving her inside. Emma fell uncomfortably into the back seat, finally coming to her senses as she scrambled to sit up.  
Through the front windshield she watched as Daryl mouthed some unsavory words to a walker who came stumbling up to him as he almost effortlessly pulled his crossbow from around his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Taking a step or two forward he pulled the arrow from the collapsing skull of the walker and stepped backwards, turning around on his heel and opening up the driver's side door, throwing his crossbow into the seat next to him and slamming the door shut.

"We gotta lot tah' talk 'bout, girl." Daryl grumbled as he put the car into drive, hitting the gas.

"Yea'...no shit." Emma muttered under her breath as she sunk deep down into the back seat.


	2. Chapter 2

The car roared past zombies reaching aimlessly towards the vehicle as it flew past them. Emma stared intently at the back of Daryl's head as he maneuvered through them and back up through the prison's gate that was being quickly pulled open by an older woman with short grey hair.  
In a matter of moments, Daryl wordlessly put the car into park as the gate clanked shut behind them. He grabbed his crossbow from the seat next to him and opened the door, stepping out of the car. Emma sat still in the backseat for a while, trying to get her senses about her as Daryl began to speak to the grey haired woman, motioning to the car as he spoke to her.  
Her eyes focused on Daryl through strands of wet and mud soaked strands of hair that fell carelessly down in front of her eyes. The rain beating down on the roof of the car sounded so loud, crossing out any chance she had of hearing any words he was saying to the woman through the rain. It was so much louder now than it had sounded before, causing her mind to drift off to memories of Daryl and her own brother and of Daryl's brother, Merle.  
The three of them had been buddies, Blake and Merle more so than Daryl. Blake and Merle had been to jail countless times together, hunting buddies, drinking buddies...she wondered it Merle was even still alive.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when Daryl popped open the door, causing her to jump slightly.

"Out."

Emma scooted out of the back seat, leaving behind piles of mud and a soaking wet seat. The pack on her back felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds.

Impatient, Daryl reached out, grabbing Emma by the sleeve of her shirt, and with his free hand, slammed the door shut behind her. He motioned to the other woman to head on inside as the rain still came on down, dragging Emma behind him.  
The two of them ended up alone as they entered through a heavy door, that Daryl slammed behind them, finally letting go of Emma.

"What ya' doin' here?" he finally asked, turning around to face her through the very dimly lit entrance area of the prison. Emma struggled to focus her eyes on him through the dark, but it was hard, and she could just barely make out the outline of his head and the faint shimmer of the crossbow hooked around his arm.

"Askin' ya' the same question, Dixon."

"Damn, girl," Daryl spat, throwing his arms up slightly, "I ain't ever think you make it outta there. Yer' brother mayb-" he stopped halfway through his sentence, eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned forward towards her, "Yer brother not make it?"

"No," Emma replied simply before she quickly changed the subject, "Listen, Dixon, ain't the time to talk about shit like that, ya' got people here? Could use some nights rest, if it ain't too much trouble."  
Daryl grunted, motioning towards the lighter area of the prison hallway before he began to move ahead of her, making his way down the hallway without another word to her, expecting her to follow.

Daryl Dixon: a man of few words.

Emma followed, huffing and grunting and she adjusted the pack around her back. She had figured it was a small group he was with, maybe not too many people since Daryl was never too much of a people person, yet found it surprising when she was met with a fairly decent group, and most all with guns.

Her hands went up almost instantly as she came into view of the group. A man with an icy hot stare had stepped forward, glaring as he kept a small pistol close to his side, hand on the trigger.  
Daryl put his arm out in between Emma and the man.

"I know 'er."

The man cocked an eyebrow, glancing between Daryl and Emma as his hand quietly left the side of the pistol before his attention focused back to Emma instead of Daryl.

Emma lowered her hands quickly, now taking this prime opportunity to speak out before anyone else could interject.

"Just lookin' for a place to stay a few nights. Rest up, ya' know. Ain't gonna be no burden."

With the man's eyebrow still cocked, his lips tightened as he listened before speaking up himself.

"Just a few nights, then you're gone. Got it?"

Emma nodded, a feeling of relief sweeping through her body as she watched the man walk away from her. It was strange how things changed now that walkers had taken over. In the beginning when groups formed or people met they wanted to know your story, know your name, and now it was something that wasn't talked about. People either trusted others too much or not enough. Sometimes Emma wasn't sure if it was the walkers that were the worst now or the people that were left was what they really had to worry about.

"C'mon," Daryl breathed, looking over his shoulder at Emma. He didn't need to tell her to follow as she kept on his tail as they made their way into the cellblock where she was surprised to see a younger girl holding a baby, and a man with one leg.

"What kinda company ya' keepin' lately, Dixon?" she whispered up to Daryl.

He huffed, smirking slightly as he led Emma to an empty cell. "You can sleep here." He paused, looking Emma up and down with those eyes of steel he had, "Ya' look like shit."

Emma paused, midway between opening up the pack she had thrown on the floor and was starting to unzip. Turning her head up towards Daryl she responded with a lovely, "I ain't complain' 'bout how you look."

Daryl let a small half smile creep up on his lips. To Emma, seeing this gave her a feeling of home and made her hope that maybe it brightened Daryl's day, even if it had been a playful insult.  
He said nothing else to Emma as he left her alone in the cell. The faint sound of rain could still be heard through the thick concrete building. A sigh escaped her body as she dug her hand down into the pack, pulling out a piece of worn out leather with the faint outline of old wording that had once been a part of Blake's jacket.

She pushed herself up onto the edge of the small, flimsy mattress, staring at the small piece of leather before shoving it into the wet pocket of her jeans.

"Well hot damn!" came a voice from the doorway. A voice Emma knew far too well.

Merle Dixon had led her brother to jail plenty of times. He wasn't a nice man. He was racist, mean, sexist, an alcoholic…anything bad that was in the world, Merle was, but, to Emma to this moment just like his brother, Merle was a piece of home that she missed. In fact, growing up around the oldest Dixon wasn't as bad as it may have seemed. Merle beat up one or two boys for her when she was younger, he had even stolen her first bottle of beer for her.

"Where's that asshole brother of yers, huh?" he asked in a raspy smokers tone.

Emma turned her head up to Merle. He wasn't an idiot, she was sure he knew the question to that when she didn't answer her question.

"Didn't make it, huh? Sonofabitch." He muttered, his face softening just a little as the loss hit him.

It didn't last long though as the young blonde girl cradling the baby, peeked her head in behind Merle.

"Oh, sorry I-"

"Ain't no mind," Merle interjected, taking one hard look at Emma before he turned to look at the blonde girl and baby, "Was jus' introducin' myself. Who don't wanna know good ole' Merle!?" he asked to no one in particular as he exited the cell.

The blonde girl, rocking the baby took a step in as Merle left, offering a smile to Emma.

"Sorry about him, he's a little…" she struggled to search for the word.

"Yeah, I know." Emma finished, a small smile playing on the corner of her lips.

The girl took a breath in, "I'm Beth. This is Judith," she motioned to the baby, "Didn't know if you wanted to have dinner with us tonight? There's plenty. You can meet everyone once they come back from looking for supplies."

Emma was amazed at how positive and trusting this girl was. It was refreshing.

"Am I allowed? That man out there didn't seem all too thrilled with me comin'."

"Oh," Beth said, "Rick just had been having some hard times lately, you'll be okay."

Emma gave a slight shrug, "I suppose so. Ain't gonna do no harm I guess."

"Great!" Beth chipped up, "I'll come get you later, okay?"

Emma nodded as Beth so cheerfully smiled again, leaving the cell as she hummed and rock the little baby in her arms.

Another sighed racked her body as the intense feeling of exhaustion came over her body. Her eyes felt heavy and weak now. Emma ran her hands over her face and turned her head to the side to look out through the bars of the cell door to catch the gaze of Daryl standing next to Merle who was chattering away. His attention wasn't at Merle though, as Emma managed to meet those eyes of his. He was always a hard one to read, even now.  
The most she could manage to do now was to offer him a tired half smile. It wasn't the way she imagined to be hanging out with the Dixon brothers again, but it was the closet to home she had been in a while.

Rolling over onto her back, the thin mattress encased her body in a warmth and comfort she hadn't felt in a long while and sleep over came her as well as the feeling of Daryl's eyes on her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Did you guys catch this episode of Walking Dead (3/24)? SO emotional! It will be in later chapters once it gets there. Oh, and after last chapter I forgot to address Merle's hand...sorry! Also, I've been getting followers to this story but not a ton of reviews, so if you guys can review too, that'd be great!**

* * *

_The air was hot and heavy. It stuck to your skin and made you feel ten times heavier than you were. The sun was dangerously hot and bright, beating down harshly onto the black asphalt. To top it all off the breeze was barely there, and with the heavy summer heat in the middle of the day made it exhausting to move on through the piles of broken down vehicles and have the thick smell of decaying flesh wafting through the air, burning deep down into your nostrils.  
She could see him there, walking next to her down the car packed highway as they made their way to Atlanta. Blake was a tough son of a bitch. Emma thought the man was invincible even now in her older years. She looked up to her older brother and could see him perfectly there in the hot heat.  
Then he mind flashed to later on in the day; a swarm of ravenous walkers, chomping and clawing at Blake as he tossed his rifle as close as he could to Emma, screaming at her to run. The blood squirting out from his body like a fountain, coating the ground around him as he sank to his knees, letting out a loud roar as they overtook his body._

Emma awoke straight up, her clothes sticking to her skin as her breaths came in heavy and fast. The memories of what had happened to Blake came every night and they played in parts, always ending with the last time she saw him.

"You a'ight?"

She jumped, turning her head over to see Daryl sitting on a small office chair that had been inside the cell. His arms were resting on his knees as he was lent over slightly, looking across the dimly lit, small cell.

"Jesus," Emma muttered, running a hand down her face. She shifted over, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot and scooting over to the edge, the rust springs creaking underneath her weight, "Yeah, sunshine and roses."

"I can tell," Daryl replied, pausing for a moment he picked at the fray of a hole on his jeans, glancing down for a moment before he continued, "So ya' saw Merle's here too."

"Yeah, good ole' Merle. Figure that smartass would be livin'. What happened to his hand though?"

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head, "Damn fool got chained to a roof, cut off his own damn hand."

"No shit?" Emma raised an eyebrow in surprise at the story. Sure, Merle was tough, but she hadn't expected him to cut off his own damn hand. Yet again in these circumstances, who knows what people would do to survive?

"No shit," Daryl repeated. It made the two of them grin simultaneously.

Daryl was a tough guy and always had been. He was always over shadowed by Merle though. The tough as nails, not giving a shit Merle always had the upper hand on Daryl. If Merle stole a car, Daryl was with him even if he was against it. If Merle got caught with weed, so did Daryl. Daryl wasn't as hard as Merle was, but Merle had seen shit that Daryl hadn't. Emma always thought that Daryl was a good person, there would be moments she could catch him doing or saying something sweet followed by a smartass remark to cover up said sweetness.

"Hey," Beth's voice broke in through the silence between the two of them and they both looked up in her direction and she offered a sheepish smile to the two of them, "Everyone's back if you guys want to get something to eat. Carol and Maggie cooked it up tonight."

"Uh, yeah, thanks Beth," Emma waved her hand in acknowledgement at her. Beth smiled again, nodding at Daryl before disappearing back out into the main part of the cell.

Pushing herself up off of the bed, Daryl followed suit and stood up from sitting down on the chair. The two of them awkwardly stepped to the cell door, muttering 'sorrys' as they bumped arms and shoulders trying to get past each other, finally coming to another awkward halt as they met each other at the cell doorway. Emma raised her chin upwards to Daryl who looked back down at Emma, his head cocked to the head slightly, waiting for her to make the first move.  
Emma reached out, wrapping her fingers gently around Daryl's forearm. His face softened as her fingers touched his skin, an electric shock surging up through their arms. She swallowed hard, looking down shyly away from him, removing her fingers from around his arm and curled them up into a fist.

"I'm glad I found ya', Dixon." Came the soft southern drawl of words from her mouth as her eyes raised up to meet his again.

"Glad ya ain't walker bait."

She rolled her eyes playfully at him as he grinned at Emma, finally stepping past her and into the cell block.

Taking a moment before stepping out into the cell block, she finally came to see the group that Daryl and Merle had been staying with. The man with the blue eyes, Beth, the baby, the woman with the short hair that Daryl had been talking to, an Asian man sitting next to a woman with brown hair, the man with one leg, a young boy and a black woman who sat next to the young boy.  
Emma made her way sheepishly towards the group, and was almost to them when Merle's arm came around her shoulder, practically pulling Emma towards the group.

"Well c'mon now! Don't be shy!"

The group turned to look around at Merle and the new comer next to Merle's side. From next to the blue eyed man Daryl raised his head from a bowl of food that he held in his hand.  
"Jesus Merle! Just let 'er git some food!"

"Baby D standin' up for the farmer's daughter! Ain't it cute?"

Emma huffed, and as best as she could brought her arm forward, elbowing Merle inbetween his ribs. Merle let out a grunt as his arm slipped away from around Emma's shoulder. The group gave an approving round of applause and Daryl smirked.

"She isn't so bad, Daryl." The man beside him chirped up, looking across the makeshift table that held the bowls and food on it. Daryl nodded, looking to him and then back to Emma as the man continued, "I'm Rick. Sorry for being rude to you earlier. We've been having some…problems with a group down the road."

Emma waved a hand at him, "Yer' fine, I can understand 'bout not trustin' people. Almost can trust them walkers out their better than people now a' days."

Rick let out a chuckle, nodding his head.

"You're right about that," he then motioned around the room, "This is my son, Carl," he said, patting the young boy with a too big sheriffs hat on his shoulder, followed by the black woman, and so on. It felt weird to hear the names of everyone. Emma felt as though she was back in school on the first day when everyone did one of those awkward introductions about themselves.

"Thanks fer' lettin' me stay awhile."

Rick shook his head, his hand extending out towards the table, "It's nothing. Go ahead and get something to eat, have a little extra tonight."

Emma muttered a 'thank you' to Rick before the group went back to their normal nights routine. It was almost like a family, something Emma had longed to see for such a long time. Groups would get together and fall apart because of greed and backstabbing and God knows what else, but they seemed solid. Even Merle, though he stood behind Daryl and away from the group seemed just a little bit calmer even if he could be off his rocker.

She took an old crate as a seat next to Daryl, munching away as she observed the group at the same time as they tried to keep good spirits about them, laughing and playing with the baby. Even if they was some tension she just couldn't quite put her finger on.

Daryl nudged her gently in the arm, "Nice moves ya' put on Merle."

She roughly swallowed a mouthful of food, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand, "Soundin' like I'm flirtin' with him, Dixon."

" 'Ey, he'd probably like it if you were older."

"Daryl!" She raised her hand, smacking him playfully on the arm. Daryl leaned backwards, laughing as he rubbed his upper arm with his other hand.

"Damn girl, ya' kill walkers that way?"

Emma huffed at the younger Dixon brother as she shoveled the last remaining bits of mixed matched food stuffs into her mouth. Daryl watched her the whole time, those grey blue eyes of his watching with amusement as she turned her head to him, a smear of food across her bottom lip.

Daryl reached out, bringing his thumb along her bottom lip to swipe away the food. Emma's eyes got wide and she swallowed hard, standing up from the crate quickly enough to tip it over.

"I'm gonna go lay down fer' a bit," she mumbled, walking off back to her cell.

Daryl stared at Emma as she walked back to the cell, parts of her clothing and skin still caked in the red Georgia mud. What was he thinking? She was the closest thing to home he had besides Merle but he wasn't sure how much of the past he wanted to be reminded of either. At the same time a man's needs and wants could only go unused for so long.

Merle's hand came down with a hard slap on Daryl's shoulder.

"Don't ya' go pushin' fer' somethin' that's gonna fuck up what ya' have, baby brother. She's still leavin' again in a few days. "

Daryl shrugged him off roughly, still staring off in the direction Emma had wandered. Merle had a point. Merle was right.

Merle was always right.


	4. Chapter 4

**I struggled to write this! Wanted more Daryl/Emma though. Next couple of chapters will be more action and zombie filled I am thinking. We need some action, baby! **

* * *

"Can't find shit in here!" An agitated voice grumbled through the cell, piercing Emma's ears as she began to fall out of her long nights sleep. The voice seemed distant and far away, the raspy tone was almost soothing and she began to twist and turn on the small cot as she struggled to tell if it was just a dream or someone really was close to her.  
Her head turned to the side, neck cracking as she did so. Crouched on the floor with his back turned to her was none other than Merle, roughly picking through the pack of things Emma had been carrying for months.

"Jesus, Merle!" her body lurched straight forwards, her forehead coming head on with the top railing on the rusty metal bunk bed only causing a flurry of more slurs to surge out of her body as she tenderly touched her skin just above her eyebrow feeling the warmness of her skin raising from the bump.

Merle twisted his upper body around letting out a hearty laugh at Emma's unfortunate hit to the head.

"Calm down, sugah!" he drawled out and stood, turning around to be face to face with her, "Just comin' in here to see if yer' brother left me anything good!" with a crooked, mischievous grin from his hand dropped a small baggie. Holding onto the edge with his fingertips he swung the bag of white powder back and forth the grin plastered onto his face.

"Asshole," Emma grumbled, pushing herself off the cot and pushed past Merle's frame, yanking the clothes he had thrown around the cell, including the mud caked ones that she had changed out of last night, shoving them back into the pack haphazardly.

Merle tossed the baggie into the air once like he was playing a game with it. As the bag came back down into his hand he let out a short tune of happy whistles as he shoved the baggie into his back pocket, glancing down to the agitated woman as she continued her pick up routine.

"So what happened?"

"What the fuck are ya' talkin' 'bout?" she spat, not bothering to look up at the man.

"To yer' brother."

"Well," Emma drawled out slowly, the irritation thick on her southern drawl as she stood up, tossing a handful of clothing down into the pack, "He fuckin' died, Merle."

Merle smirked, shaking his head slowly as she answered his question ever so well.

"Protectin' ya', huh? Sounds like 'im."

The silence between them after he spoke said all too much for Emma as she watched Merle leave the cell. He missed Blake just about as much as Emma did, just on a different level. Merle and Daryl were brothers, they'd die for each other…but Blake and Merle were closer in age, and unlike Daryl who grew up wanting to be just like Merle, Blake never had to try. Sometimes she had sworn Daryl was jealous of Merle and Blake's friendship.

Her hand ran through the mess of auburn hair, letting out a long, heavy sigh as she lent her head back against the cold cement blocks that encase the cell, closing her eyes for a moment. Taking a moment to herself and another deep breath she kicked a few random items out of her way before she made her way out of the cell. Merle always had a way of getting underneath people's skin.

It must have been early. The bars that shielded escaping from the prison barely let any let in through the dusty windows, only a slight pink and orange hue could be very faintly see just peeking in. She assumed everyone would still be asleep, aside from Merle anyways, and shuffled her way over to the semicircle of crates and creaky chairs.  
Her body collapsed easily into an old office hair, the wheels squeaking underneath her weight as she took a seat and shifted around to get comfortable.

"Makin' yerself at home?"

Daryl came wandering out from another cell, emerging out of the dark like a ghost. The sleep was still present on his face, his hair was tousled more than normal and dark circles hung heavy underneath his eyes. Emma stirred in the chair as her stomach fluttered uncomfortably as she watched Daryl make his way towards her. She had never had any sort of these odd feelings towards him before. Daryl was an attractive man, but Emma felt she didn't live up to the great Dixon legacy of half-naked blondes and biker babes. Then again, maybe it was just the fact once again that he was as close as she was going to get to a memory.

"Merle stole Blake's drugs."

"Oh." He heaved himself into a chair diagonal from her, slumping down into it. "Sorry."

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and Emma turned her head away from him, eyes drifting around the cell block. Funny how all familiar this place seemed to her from visits to Blake, and Merle must have felt right at home here.

The clanging and shuffling around of someone waking up and coming out of their cell ended up being Carol, who offered a smile to the two of them as she came walking out holding baby Judith in her arms. Judith cooed and wimped softly as she sat down softly next to Daryl who grinned softly at baby in her arms.

"How's lil' ass kicker?"

Emma blinked for a second at the name followed by raising an eyebrow at the pet name that only Daryl could give someone.

"Lil' ass kicker?"

Carol let out a laugh, rocking Judith back and forth in her arms. "Daryl's name choice."

"That's tame considerin' it came from a Dixon."

Carol let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Have you two known each other long? Merle talked like you all were from the same area."

"Merle an' my brother were buddies, Daryl too. I was just the baby sister tryin' to fit in with the guys."

"Daryl's a good guy," Carol smiled openly at Daryl who was now busy picking at the hem on the bottom of his shirt, "Merle I'm not so sure about."

Emma shrugged, "Merle's been through a lot."

Daryl looked up at Emma as she defended his big brother and couldn't help but feel his chest puff up with pride for the quiet way she stood up for Merle. Carol on the other hand seemed a little less thrilled that the new girl vouched for Merle. Carol cleared her throat to break the tension between the two of them and stood.

"Judith needs fed." She muttered, hustling away from the two of them.

Emma had turned her to watch as Carol walked away with Judith only to find Daryl had so sneakily crept up from his spot he had been sitting and placed his lips softly against Emma's cheek, the scruff from his goatee brushing against her skin as he did so.

"Thanks," he breathed into her ear, the southern tone rumbling throughout her body like a thunderstorm.

Shock didn't hide itself from Emma's face, but lucky for her Daryl wasn't able to see her whole face from the way she was standing, giving her enough time to place her hand against Daryl's chest firmly, pushing him away from her and stood. Her hand came up to the side of her face, wiping away at her skin as if she had bugs crawling over her skin.

"C'mon, Dixon!" the gross out was all just a trick. Emma had hated to admit that she didn't mind Daryl's innocent kiss on the cheek, and Daryl sure as hell wasn't going to admit that he didn't mind giving it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of updates. We are moving this week so between that and Easter it's been crazy! Did you all enjoy the season finale? I was pretty pleased with the ending! ;)  
Also, I have found my inspiration song for these two! 'Stay' by Rihanna. I'm a big country music fan, but this song seems to just suit them. **

* * *

The group had all ventured outside. The cooler air was a relief compared to the stuffiness of the inside of the prison. Emma was glad she had her brothers oversized leather jacket at about this time, the same faded pair of angel wings that Daryl had on the back of his vest. The two of them had chatted on and off throughout the day, Emma would ask him about someone and Daryl would shrug his shoulders and grumble something back to her, but that was normal.

He watched her as she stood with her back towards the group as they rustled about, getting ready for the governor's attack that was soon coming. Rick had mentioned it briefly to her earlier on in the day but had not given out the details. Daryl was glad Rick hadn't mentioned it in detail; he didn't want Emma to get too involved. After all, she was still leaving.  
He must have been too much in his own thoughts because he jumped slightly when Merle's good hand slapped down hard on his shoulder.

"Look but don't touch, baby brother!" he smirked.

Daryl shrugged his shoulder out from underneath Merle's hand, scowling as he turned around, heading away from Merle.

Merle followed though, letting out a chuckle as he kept up the pace with the littlest Dixon.

"C'mon, baby D! Ain't gotta git' yer' panties in a bunch! 'Less of 'course you thought about it."

Daryl kept on walking, "Ain't never felt nothin' towards her! Just another stupid bitch."

Merle reached his arm around Daryl's shoulders, curling around his neck like a python strangling its prey as he whipped his younger brother back around to Emma's direction who was now chatting with Michonne and Rick.

"I'm just givin' ya' shit, Daryl. Not like ya' even been too drunk and tellin' me how bad ya' wanted the gi-"

The brothers' conversation was cut off by Rick's voice hollering over to Daryl. Daryl shoved Merle away who could only smirk at his younger brother, crossing his arms as the small group of Michonne, Rick and Emma made their way over to the two of them.

"Emma mentioned she used to set traps when hunting. Think they'd come in handy for when the governor gets here?"

Daryl nodded, "Might help a little, ain't gonna hurt to try."

"Good," Rick nodded, glancing around the small group, "You, Emma and Michonne can head out later and set some up around the prison gates. Maggie and Carl can distract the walkers while you guys get it set up."

They nodded silently to each other. Michonne, Rick and Daryl all passed some sort of understanding look between the three of them. They would have been the strongest person alive if the three of them combined themselves together.

As Michonne and Rick wandered off, Emma was left with Daryl and Merle.

"Look at that!" Merle smirked, "Two days and yer already helpin' out. Ya' givin' someone around here a blowjob or what, 'Em?"

"Merle!" Emma spat, reaching out to smack Merle on the arm. He stepped back, hands raised and laughing.

"Just sayin'! I know someone 'round here who needs one." He gave Daryl a wink, nudging him in the side. Daryl sneered, stepping away from Merle and muttering something under his breath as his eyes adverted Emma.

"You two love birds have fun." Merle teased as he wandered away from the two of them.

"C'mon," Daryl spat out, finally looking over towards Emma, "let's git this shit done."

* * *

It took them all day to set up booby traps around the prison gates, with short breaks in between when the walkers became bored with the banging of pots and pans along the other side of the fence. The sun was setting in beautiful hues of oranges and reds and pinks. Emma took a moment, shoving her hands into the pockets of her brothers worn out jacket as she stopped at the fence as the rest of the group began to wander back inside of the prison.

"What are ya' doing?" Daryl quietly asked from behind Emma. She turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder before looking back out past the fence, the walkers meandering quietly through the tall grass of the open half of the prison yard, illuminated by the beautiful background of the sky behind them. How ironic.

"Ya' think people still go to heaven?"

Daryl was a bit taken aback by her question. His mother had been religious, but that had never really carried down onto the Dixon boys. He shrugged at her question, moving so he was standing next to Emma.

"Maybe."

"Ya' think God is punishin' us fer' fuckin' up?"

Daryl let out a short, soft laugh, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at her.

"Probably."

A small smile lit up Emma's face as she looked over at Daryl who was still looking down at the young woman.

"Yer' different," she stated softly, "Softer, I guess. More yerself."

He smirked, "Ya' think so, huh?"

Emma nodded, "Ain't gonna ruin yer' reputation by tellin' anyone so don't worry, Dixon." She teased, breaking the somewhat serious moment that had transpired between the two of them.  
Daryl was finding himself oddly drawn to Emma. From Merle's teasing earlier, he had to admit he had always had some sort of spark towards Emma, but she was a dumb girl, and he was Daryl Dixon. It was like oil and water. He tried to find all the reasons why now he wanted her. Maybe he was lonely for home, or he was just horny. Or maybe like Emma believed God had something to do with it.

"Ain't the thing I gotta worry 'bout now."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she turned to look at Daryl.

"What do ya' mean, Dixon?"

Daryl reached out, grabbing ahold of the crook of Emma's arm and pulled her effortlessly towards him. Emma's face turned red from her cheeks to her ears. She swallowed hard as he dropped his hand from her arm and both of his hands reached up to cup her face gently.

"What are ya' doin'?" Emma whispered just loud enough for him to hear, swallowing hard.

"I don't know." He replied simply.

Emma felt her heart leap up into her throat as the two of their eyes met. Her mind raced in confusion at the actions of Daryl, and as he tilted his head slightly to the side and began to lean his head in, Emma pulled away, breaking the surge of electricity that flew between them. A hand came up to her mouth in mild shock as Daryl stood there, hands at his side, face unreadable.

"I-I can't do this, Dixon." Emma managed to choke out before turning on her heel and disappearing as quickly as she could back into the walls of the prison.

Daryl felt as if he drew all of his emotions back in that he had just thrown on the table. Maybe she was right about him getting soft. Maybe he was getting too soft for this world now. He cared too much about people that he didn't even know before the world went to shit and now that someone from his past came waltzing back into his life who he could have cared about more than any of them just walked away from him. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt yet, a bit of anger, disappointment and yet trying so hard to think logically about the situation. After all, she wasn't going to stay.

_Funny you're the broken one cause I'm the only one who needed saving.  
Cause when you never see the light it's hard to know which one of us is caving._


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry it's taken SO long to update! Between moving into our new house and baby stuff (it's a girl!) it's been kind of crazy. I am going to try to update more! I will have a lot more time in about two months, also. ;)

* * *

Daryl had avoided her for most of the day. It hadn't helped that Emma had flat out rejected the younger Dixon boy, but the shock that overcame her as he leaned in towards her was just too much. Maybe she was just being a naïve, clueless girl having never really noticed that maybe he had actually, sort of, maybe, liked her. After all, he had always picked on her, yet became jealous when she got a new boyfriend. How stupid was she not to notice? Then again, maybe she was just overthinking the whole situation.

Her mind drifted back to the first day she had met Daryl. Merle and Blake had been friends for years and she had known him since she was younger, but Daryl never did seem to surface in any of their outings, even when Blake let her ride around on the back of his motorcycle when he and Merle went cruising through town. But now it was Emma's 21st birthday, five years before the world went to shit, and the very first time that she met the younger Dixon.

* * *

_The rough and tumble Northern Georgia biker bar was lively tonight. The faded out neon sign that blinked haphazardly in the dark was supposed to spell out the name of the bar but the missing few letters on the sign were dark. Bikes were lined up in a perfectly diagonal row, one right next to each other. A few bikes were scattered around in the parking lot next to beat up old pickup trucks and shitty cars with the donut still left on one wheel. Emma had just pulled up with Blake and Merle. The three of them all had leather jackets on, the trademark faded angel wings on the back of their jackets. It was funny how those symbolized Daryl so much later on in life._

_Emma sung her leg off the back of Blake's bike, one hand on his shoulder as she pushed away from him and he turned the key on the bike, following his little sisters lead to stand. Merle was parked next to Blake, casually leaning up against the front handlebars, a cigarette in his mouth as he flirted shamelessly with a girl in a frayed cutout t-shirt, jean shorts and cowboy boots with hair up to the sky. It was an easy catch for him, that was for sure._

_"So," Blake placed his arm around Emma's shoulder as he drug her into the dark, musty-ness of the bar, pulling her past people as they went shoulder to shoulder with other bar patrons. "What ya' wanna drink lil' sister? None of that girly shit!" The two of them came up to the bar and he removed his arm from around Emma's shoulder, leaning up against the bar countertop._

_"Surprise me. None of that girly shit, though." She teased back to her brother._

_Blake was simple and ordered two glasses of straight up whiskey on the rocks. It was the cheap kind that had a weird after burn and the alcohol always seemed to settle at the bottom, but it was still a drink. Merle joined them, settling in on a stool next to Blake. He turned his head in Emma's direction, smirking._

_"Hey Little Girl, finally old 'nough to drink in public without the pigs gittin' ya', huh?"_

_"Yeah, Merle."_

_He chuckled, shaking his head, "Least ya' won't git arrested like ya' did when ya' was what..14?"_

_Blake nudged his sister as the memory came back to the both of the boys. "Shit Em, I 'member that! Paw was pissed as shit at ya'!"_

_"Jesus, Blake. Thanks for 'minding me!"_

_The boys rolled in laughter at the memory of the little girl, awkward and naïve getting put in the back of the squad car after she had skipped school to hang out with a boy who was much too old for her. It didn't help that the police knew her last name by heart and didn't exactly treat her as kindly as they probably should have due to her brother's reputation. But, she got her shit together for the most part and actually graduated highschool and now was working as a waitress at a diner down the road._

_"Hey, Daryl's here." Merle looked over his shoulder and whistled at the man, "Hey shit fer' brains!" he yelled over the loud bar. Daryl must have been called that a lot because he came sauntering over to the three of them, beer in hand._

_"Hey baby brother, ya' 'member Blake?"_

_Daryl nodded, his lips tight as he looked the man up and down, muttering a low 'hey' under his breath before his attention fell to Emma who was sipping on the dirty glass of whiskey._

_"Your girl?" he nodded in the direction of Emma who looked up towards Daryl as Blake let out a loud laugh, shaking his head._

_"Fuck no. Little sister!"_

_That was the first time Daryl and Emma's eyes met, and the start of the awkward, sometimes friendship started between the two of them, thrust together in between her brother and his. They argued too much and drank too much. Emma vaguely remembered that night as Daryl replied to Blake, though he hadn't seemed to hear him._

_"Good."_

* * *

Emma had heard him though, and that was when it all started.

Her mind drifted back to reality, the sun hot on the cracked concrete on the prison yard as people shuffled about, anticipating the Governors return. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Daryl hastily swinging his crossbow over his shoulder, his face unreadable. Sometime seemed wrong.

Emma pushed herself off of the rickety picnic table she had sat herself up on and walked quickly in Daryl's direction.

"Dixon!" he glanced in her direction, eyes narrowed.

"Fuck ya' want?"

"What's wrong?" Emma paused, thinking back on the day that had drifted by so fast. She really hadn't been keeping track of who she saw or what had happened throughout the day, but then she remembered she hadn't seen Merle or Michonne all day, and Rick had seemed on edge recently.

Her words came out slowly as she watched him carefully for any reaction. "..Where's Merle?"

Daryl's body tensed and he almost sneered down at her. "Gone."

"What?"

"Gone!" He shouted loud enough for her to hear. "He fuckin' took Michonne and booked it..tryin' tah give her to the fuckin' gov'nor."

"I'm confused..I-"

Daryl cut her off as he began to make his way towards the gates of the prison, "I'm goin' tah find him either way."

"I'm coming."

He spun around, grabbing ahold of Emma by the stretched out collar of her shirt, forcing her up against a cool, shaded wall of the prison away from the eyes of the group. Lowering his head down to her, his eyes were cold; hard as he glared down at Emma. "Don't think 'bout it."

"Already did." She spat back.

Daryl sneered, but in a strange twist his mouth ended up roughly on hers, releasing his hand from the grip he had on her collar to cup her jaw line awkwardly. The kiss was rough and awkward, but it was needed by the both of them and in a second it was over, and he pulled away from her. "Stay." He muttered.

Then he was gone, jogging through the tall grass, dodging walkers as Emma looked on until she couldn't see him anymore through the woods. She had lost her brother, thought she had lost the Dixon boys, and now with one MIA and the other gone, she wasn't sure how she felt.

She felt the handle of her brother's old hunting knife strapped to her side and made a rash decision at that point: she was going after the Dixon brothers.


End file.
